


Daisy Chains

by alouette_des_champs



Series: Youth of the Nation [2]
Category: NADDPOD - Fandom, Not Another D&D Podcast, Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Families of Choice, Friendship, Not Another D&D Podcast - Freeform, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-10 03:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alouette_des_champs/pseuds/alouette_des_champs
Summary: “Okay, not that I’m against you havin’one whole emotion,but I brought this in case of an emergency.” She deftly pulled the baggie out of her bra, opened it up, and pressed a little tab into his palm. He glanced down, then closed his hand around it quickly.“You want me to drop acid at my ex’s wedding?” he hissed, eyes darting around the room to see if anyone had noticed the exchange.“I mean, yeah.”





	Daisy Chains

**Author's Note:**

> It's Frostwind except with less murder because Jesus Christ, can you imagine? Still pretty sad, even sans stabbing.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Moonshine asked, leaning in the doorway to Hardwon’s room. It was a mess. Most of the clothes he owned had been tossed on the bed or the floor during his search for his one and only suit. She was putting in a pair of big, sparkly earrings that she hoped would look fancy under the right lighting even though they were just plastic. 

“I feel like I don’t really have a choice.” He was standing in front of the mirror that was propped against the wall, a mirror he normally only used to watch himself lift weights. He kept telling her that it was because he needed to keep good form, but she suspected that he just liked the sight of his own flexing muscles. Speaking of his muscles, his suit had clearly been bought for a much smaller version of Hardwon Surefoot. The material was tight around his biceps and the dress shirt barely buttoned across his chest. He looked like Bruce Banner stuck midway through his Hulk transformation.

“I mean, you _do._ We could just go, like, to a bowlin’ alley. Do somethin’ normal for once in our lives.”

He didn’t seem to have heard her, tugging furiously on the too-short sleeves of his jacket. “I can’t believe she’s marrying Gerard Coldain. That guy was always such a wiener.”

“Really? He looked kinda built in the picture on the invitation.” She knew this would get his attention, and it did. He finally looked away from his own reflection to narrow his eyes at her.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Just sayin’.” She held up her hands in surrender, backing out of the room. “I’ll go see if Bev is ready.”

She had no frame of reference for what was appropriate wedding attire. Back home, a pair of Daisy Dukes and a crop top would have sufficed, but this was a different ballgame entirely. Moonshine had very few outfits that could have been described as ‘classy.’ With Bev’s help, she picked out a green dress that _almost_ covered her boobs and her butt at the same time. She threw on some flats to make the whole thing look less scandalous. Beverly, of course, looked immaculate. The little weirdo knew how to dress; it was a side-effect of his upper-middle-class upbringing, along with his complete lack of chill and his insistence that everyone in their apartment use coasters all the time.

They took the car that Hardwon’s dad had left for him to the church. The battered El Camino only left its parking spot for special occasions, partially because Hardwon was understandably protective of it and partially because it wouldn’t start most of the time. He was constantly fiddling with it, making repairs both mechanical and cosmetic, but he was not a natural mechanic. It was a lot of trial and error, swearing, and calls to Triple A. That day, the car bumped along the back roads well enough, making a suspicious grinding sound that was too loud to talk over. It gave Moonshine some time to think about how she was going to handle this whole thing, and about the plastic baggie she had stuffed in her bra, containing a small amount of something she would only break out if things went too far south.

The church was on the other side of town, in a neighborhood known for its old money. The building itself was cavernous, decked out in elegant blues and whites, teeming with people who looked like they belonged on television. Hardwon, Moonshine, and Beverly stuck out like sore thumbs. They sat down on the bride’s side of the aisle. The groom was already standing with the minister at the altar in front of a huge, fragrant floral display. 

“That douchebag hasn’t changed at all,” Hardwon muttered. Gerard Coldain was an intimidating man, muscular, a little on the short side. He had pale blue eyes and hair so blond that it was almost white. He was chatting with the minister while they waited for the ceremony to start, smiling a lopsided, shark-like smile.

“What’s your beef with this guy, anyway?” Moonshine asked, but before Hardwon could answer, the string quartet stationed in the choir box struck up a tune. Bridesmaids and groomsmen began to file between the pews arm in arm.

Bev leaned across Moonshine’s lap to poke Hardwon. “Who’s that super beefy bridesmaid?” He jerked his head at a woman in the procession who was walking next to a comically skinny man who looked enough like the groom to be his brother. She was of an average height, but her lacy blue bridesmaid’s dress couldn’t hide the rippling muscles of her arms and back. Her hair was cut in a straight, military-esque bob, and she, unlike the rest of the wedding party, was not even attempting to smile.

“That’s Jaina, Gemma’s sister.”

“Christ, she looks like a fuckin’ UFC fighter,” Moonshine muttered.

“She used to give a mean Indian burn back in the day.” Hardwon never talked about his childhood. She knew that he’d never known his parents, had come up through the emotional woodchipper of the foster system, bounced around between lukewarm relatives and less-than-welcoming strangers, but that was all she had ever managed to draw out of him. He’d talked about high school a little, about Gemma and his short-lived football career, but it was hard to tell what was real and what was bluster.

The first chords of the wedding march made them all turn their heads toward the back of the church. Gemma was a lot smaller than Moonshine had pictured her; she was five feet tall in heels and weighed ninety pounds, tops. She was pretty in that pouty, disaffected way that teen models are pretty, even when she was smiling. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a mound of stiff, frozen curls, and her skin looked perfectly golden tan next to the creamy lace of her gown.

“She definitely bullied someone until they killed themself in high school, right?” she whispered, leaning close to Bev’s ear. 

“Oh, mad Regina George vibes,” he replied sagely, nodding.

“And why does her dad look like he’s _absolutely_ in the mafia?” Mr. Bronzebeard, a small, hairy man, was wearing a few too many rings for a man who was not in the mafia.

Hardwon elbowed her in the ribs without taking his eyes off the bride. “Cool it, you two.”

The ceremony itself was boring, by-the-book. The priest said a few words, the couple exchanged rings, said _I do,_ then kissed. Neither of them had written their own vows. Gemma looked a little like she was giving an ill-prepared high school book report, while Gerard looked like he was thinking about something else the entire time. By the time they walked down the aisle together and all the guests got up to shuffle over to the reception, Moonshine felt thoroughly jaded about the institution of marriage.

Luckily, the reception was in the church community center just across the street; even more luckily, there was purportedly an open bar. Moonshine stepped outside to smoke a much-needed cigarette, and when she came back in, Beverly and Hardwon were talking to the bride herself. Seeing petite Gemma stand next to all six-foot-something of Hardwon was ridiculous, jarring, even. Moonshine wondered if she’d had to carry around a stepstool to kiss him when they had been dating. She sauntered up to the three of them, stuffing her cigarettes into Bev’s pocket so that she didn’t have to carry them around all night.

“This is the other half of my plus two,” Hardwon said, shooting her an indecipherable look. She stuck her hand out, grinning.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Moonshine.”

Gemma’s genuine smile turned immediately to plastic. She shook Moonshine’s hand limply. “So nice to meet you. Okay, I have to go mingle. Catch you later.” She waved as she disappeared into a cluster of over-emotional family members.

“Yikes,” Bev whispered. She widened her eyes at him in wordless agreement. The three of them began to make their way over to the bar, making slow progress through the crowd of people.

“What crawled under her bonnet?” Moonshine asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Oh, that?” Hardwon rolled his eyes. “If I know her, she was mad that I showed up to her wedding with someone hotter than her.”

“You talkin’ about me or Moonshine?” Bev shot finger-guns at him

“You look lovely, but you’re not my type, Bev.”

“Right back atcha, fella.”

Moonshine frowned, uncharacteristically perturbed. She didn’t really know what to make of the whole thing. “Really? That’s what she’s got her panties all in a bunch about?”

Hardwon shrugged. “Everyone’s self-conscious about something.”

“Flat ass,” Bev said mournfully, gesturing to his rear end, which wasn’t much to look at. 

“Guess I don’t really brag about my eighth-grade education,” she mused.

“Right, and I’m perfect and have no flaws.” Before anyone could protest, they were interrupted by Jaina, who barreled up to them and then stopped short, toe to toe with Hardwon.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a quiet intensity befitting an action movie villain, folding her arms across her chest.

Hardwon didn’t miss a beat. “Um, excuse you. I was invited.”

Jaina rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I _know,_ I spent eight hours that I’ll never get back stuffing envelopes. I just didn’t think you’d actually show.”

“Well, here I am. What’s your problem?”

She shook her head, deflating a little. “I always liked you, Hardwon, but you and Gemma always brought out the worst in each other. When I saw you at the ceremony, I was kind of afraid you’d stage some idiot bid to get her back at the last minute.”

“Nope. No idiots here. I’m happy for her, if she’s happy.” He hesitated. “Is she happy?”

Jaina sighed, adjusting the straps of her dress in obvious discomfort. “Yeah, I think so. Gerard is…a good guy.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like him very much.”

“I don’t. He’s boring. Big, dumb jock. Like you, but without the personality.”

“Holy shit. Was that a compliment?” 

“Don’t make me take it back. Behave, Surefoot.” She punched his shoulder a little too hard to be playful and sauntered off to rejoin the party.

They had finally made it to their destination, and Bev made the last push through the ring of people surrounding the bar to order the three of them some drinks.

“How you holdin’ up?” she asked, slapping Hardwon on the back. He was still looking after Jaina with a strange expression on his face, one she wasn’t sure she had ever seen him wear before.

“You were right, Moon, we should not have come to this. I’m _this_ close to feeling an emotion.” He held his thumb and his index finger a fraction of an inch apart to demonstrate.

“Okay, not that I’m against you havin’ _one whole emotion,_ but I brought this in case of an emergency.” She deftly pulled the baggie out of her bra opened it up, and pressed a little tab into his palm. He glanced down, then closed his hand around it quickly.

“You want me to drop acid at my ex’s wedding?” he hissed, eyes darting around the room to see if anyone had noticed the exchange.

“I mean, yeah.”

“I love you.” He grinned and popped it in his mouth immediately. Moonshine did the same, waving Beverly back from the bar. 

“Change of plans, Bev. We’re doin’ acid.” He blinked.

“We’re doing _acid_?”

“Yeah, keep up. Here.” He opened his mouth and let her pop the tab right onto his tongue.

Everything that came after that was nonlinear, liquid and pulsing with color. The reception kicked up a notch. Shoes came off, people started drinking in earnest, the lights went down, and the music got louder.

“Should’ve warned you that Gemma’s family parties,” Hardwon yelled over the music, grinning. 

“Even if they didn’t, we sure do.” She was putting all her moves on show, class be damned. The uptight yuppies were loving it. Random cousins and uncles and college friends of both the bride and groom kept tapping her on the shoulder and asking her to dance, but she just kept shaking her head at them. She and Hardwon had a thing going. She wasn’t sure if she felt light because she was super fucking high or because he was supporting most of her weight while she flung herself around, one arm braced around his neck.

Moonshine was normally full of love and warmth and hospitality, but when she did psychedelics, her affection for everything and everyone in the entire universe tripled. She loved everyone she saw. To her left, Bev was laughing with some drunk college-age kids as they all danced, ricocheting off one another as they stumbled, and it was beautiful to her. To her right, Gerard was dancing with Jaina while she apparently gave him some kind of lecture, and she thought it was adorable. Everyone’s limbs left colorful, sparkling streaks behind when they moved, so bright that it almost hurt her eyes. Right in front of her, Hardwon’s face warped and blurred into something not quite human. He looked almost like a wolf, and in that moment, she could speak to animals. She growled at him, and he growled right back like it was the most natural thing in the world. She threw her head back and laughed as the room spun. 

The next thing she knew, she was standing at the sink in the bathroom, just looking at herself in the mirror with a vague, stupid smile on her face. Gemma was standing beside her, wearing a simple white sheath instead of her wedding dress, touching up her bright red lipstick.

“Moonshine, right?” she said, eyes flickering to her face in the mirror.

“Yeah. Hi again.” She combed her fingers through her wild hair just to look like she was doing something. “You havin’ fun?”

“Am I supposed to be?” the bride asked dryly, capping her lipstick and stuffing it back into her bag.

“Well, yeah. You should be havin’ fun at your own wedding.” 

“I don’t know if I’ve ever really had fun,” Gemma said mirthlessly. She fished a pill bottle out of her purse and popped a couple into her mouth, swallowed them dry, then snapped the bag shut with a crisp finality.

Moonshine frowned. Even tripping balls, she could read a room. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine. Will you tell me something?” She straightened her dress, adjusting the underwire of her bra, her gaze locked straight forward.

“Depends.”

“How’s he doing?”

Moonshine considered this for a long moment. She wanted to answer truthfully. It was hard to tell, with someone as emotionally buttoned-up as Hardwon was, but she thought sometimes that she saw improvements. Chinks in the armor. Behaviors that weren’t as self-defeating. Tentative movements toward some kind of progress. “Better,” she said finally, smiling.

“That’s good to hear.” Gemma gave one small, tight smile in return, then looked away again. Just then, began to pound on the door. 

“Moonshine? You in there? We’re leaving,” Bev called from outside.

The last thing Moonshine remembered from that night was looking over her shoulder to see Gemma staring at herself in the mirror, her expression so intense that it was almost angry, trying to muster enough enthusiasm to face the crowd on the other side of the door.


End file.
